Song of the Boy with Seven Hearts

Seven hearts
I hold.
But mine does not encounter them.

In the high mountains, mother,
the wind and I ran into each other.
Seven young girls with long fingers
carried me on their mirrors.

I have sung through the world
with my mouth of seven petals.
My galleys of amaranth
have gone without ropes or oars.

I have lived in the lands
of others, My secrets
round my throat,
without my realising it, were open!

In the high mountains, mother,
(my heart above the echoes
in the album of a star)
the wind and I ran into each other.

Seven hearts
I hold.
But mine does not encounter them.